


Risks Of the Job

by HuntingHardyGirl



Category: Hardy Boys - Fandom, Hardy Boys/Supernatural crossover, Supernatural
Genre: Broken Bones, Brotherly Love, But nothing sexy guys, Drugs, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Just constant fear, M/M, Monsters, Overprotective Brother, TW: Incest, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9479405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntingHardyGirl/pseuds/HuntingHardyGirl
Summary: Frank and Joe have been hunting together for some time now, but this is there first time Joe's gotten seriously injured and Frank is obsessing over it.





	

Joe had gotten hurt hundreds of times during their old detective cases. Frank couldn’t count how many times they had been shot or drowned or cut or anything else when they were detectives. It was just a fact of life. Didn’t mean Frank had to like it, being the older brother, but it was something they both accepted.

Except, ever since joining the hunting world, his concern about Joe getting hurt skyrocketed to almost unhealthy levels.

They managed to avoid getting seriously hurt for the first five months or so. Their training as detectives, with the knowledge of weapons and the martial arts and everything else helping to keep them safe. They expanded on their knowledge of the supernatural, using every known way to protect themselves, with spells and salts and symbols and charms. Joe’s clairvoyance helped keep the vengeful spirits from really attacking them. Actually it helped them cross over more peacefully. The vampires and werewolves and everything else was like a new challenge.

But, like clockwork, something had to go wrong sooner or later.

The first time Joe got seriously hurt, they were fighting against a Windigo that had gotten a little too close to this professional campsite. The beast had been picking off children, as they were the easiest prey, but in the last five years or so there were less families camping there, so this thing was literally half insane with starvation.

Which was probably why it attacked with more ferocity than Windigos normally had, knocking Joe down a steep hill. Frank was horrified, especially when he heard a dull cracking sound and Joe screaming in pain. As the Windigo started stalking the injured teenager, Frank fell into a blind rage, attacking and killing the monster with his mini flame thrower, the beast screeching as it flailed and tried to escape before collapsing, dying within the flames.

Scrambling down the hill, Frank was relieved to find Joe was alive, but his brother was writhing in pain, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle. “Fuck,” he gasped, finding a stick and ripping out some gauze from their first aid kit in his backpack. “It’s okay Joe, you’re gonna be okay, just hold still.”

Resetting the leg was a bit traumatizing, with Joe wailing and the bone snapping back into place. But that would lesson the pain as Frank used the stick as a splint and tied it off with the gauze before picking his brother up piggyback style and quickly got them the fuck out of those woods for the nearest hospital, to get his brother a cast and a chance at some medication so he wouldn’t be in so much pain. Once the cast had been set, and Frank managed to smuggle some morphine into his bag, he snuck Joe out of the place and they peeled out of town, driving for several hours until dawn, where they stopped at a motel, checked in and decided to lay low.

But hours had passed since. Joe was dead asleep, sprawled over the bed, snoring softly for once as Frank paced around the room. He hated it when Joe got hurt, he hated it. It meant he wasn’t there to protect him, he wasn’t fast enough to save him. Hunting was a dangerous job, they both knew it, even more dangerous than being detectives, but they went for it anyway. They had nothing else to offer the world, they didn’t really know anything else besides putting their lives on the line for innocent people who desperately needed the help, either protection against criminals or protection from monsters.

But the risk would always be the same. The threat would always be the same. You _had_ to be on top of your game or you die. You _had_ to pay attention to your surroundings or you die. You _had_ to be on guard, every second, or you die.

“Frank?”

The elder Hardy turned at the sound of the groggy tone to see Joe’s hazy eyes watching him. His pupils were large from the morphine but the concern was still sincere, and he reached out for his brother, coaxing Frank to go sit on the bed, taking his hands. “You okay?” Joe asked.

“You almost died,” Frank said in some disbelief. “Do you think I’d be okay after that?”

“Just part of the job.”

“It shouldn’t _have_ to be!” Frank said in exasperation. “I shouldn’t have to be terrified of not being good enough to save you! Every time! Every time we go out on a hunt, I’m petrified that you might die. I can’t deal with that, Joe, I can’t lose you, I refuse to.”

Joe raised an eyebrow at his brother like he couldn’t believe how stupid Frank was being. “Frank… Even as detectives, we always risked our lives. We knew what we were getting into then. We know what we’re getting into now. This is a tame injury, remember?”

“But what if the Windigo had gotten to you before I got to it?” Frank demanded.

“Well then that’s another risk we had to take,” Joe shot back.

Frank sighed, leaning in to softly kiss Joe’s forehead. “You’re the one person who means the most to me,” he said quietly. “If I lose you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Don’t worry Frank,” Joe said, reaching up to pull Frank in for a kiss on the lips next. “We got that Hardy luck on our side. I’m not goin’ anywhere for a long time.”

“You better not. Or I’ll raise you back from the dead and kill you myself.”

“Contradictory of you isn’t it?”

“Shut up.” Making himself comfortable, Frank wrapped his arms around his brother, holding him close. “Go back to sleep until that morphine wears off.”

“Fine.” Joe smiled, closing his eyes, snuggling close. “Love you.”

“Love you too, doofus.”


End file.
